


addicted

by myn_x



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (as i think of them), Alternate Universe - College/University, Barebacking, Enemies With Benefits, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 12:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10465038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myn_x/pseuds/myn_x
Summary: Tooru may claim to hate Ushijima, but he sure does love his cock.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i crave death.
> 
> [edited 23 june 2017 to be a lot less cringe-y.]

Ushijima Wakatoshi is a study in control.

But it’s not control over people, though, no. Even when he was Shiratorizawa’s captain, Ushijima never used his power to forcibly direct his team. Rather, he’d led them but with a loose fist, letting them utilize their strengths as they saw fit (under Washijou’s penetrative glare, of course), which made Shiratorizawa as indomitable as it was.

It wasn't a powerhouse school because of Ushijima's abilities alone; it was because it had a leader who knew what it was to step aside and let his teammates flourish in their own unique ways, bringing their talents together to make one unified force that had beaten Tooru every time.  
  
And as much as Tooru loathed to admit, and he never would out loud, of course, he had to respect that. Even if it took him a while to get past his own issues -- he'd worked himself to _death_ , for fuck's sake, only to have it all come to naught -- and accept that Ushijima had maybe been a little right. Especially if current, ah, _positions_ , were anything to go by.

Now that he’s at university, Tooru’s come to realize that their conversation after that final, painful loss was less about Ushijima wanting to tell him what he should have done, and more about him offering genuine, albeit blunt, guidance. Less about Ushijima chastising him like a disappointed parent and more about how good of a pairing they’d have made.

How good of a pairing they _do_ make. (They’re matched for power, after all.)

Ushijima respected Tooru -- has probably always respected him, in his own way -- and Tooru has no idea what to do with this information.

 

 

Shiratorizawa was the perfect high school for Ushijima, since everything about him, even now, broadcasts _intense force_. From his spikes to the breadth of his shoulders to that deep low voice that echoes in Tooru’s ears, to the way his large hands pin Tooru down as he fucks him into his sheets.

And his _control_. A better word might be "restraint," or maybe "composure." Ushijima’s actions were always measured and deliberate; he was tightly wound but he also pulsed energy, which he held in check with stoicism and clipped, brusque language.

But behind that control was a recklessness that Tooru loved to bring out, simply because he knew he was the only one who could and knew how to.

It did take a diamond to cut other diamonds.  
  
That steel-cut jaw had an edge that softened under Tooru's touch, and nothing had turned him on like it had than the moment he'd discovered Ushijima's weakness. There was nothing quite like watching Ushijima Wakatoshi’s control teeter, not knowing exactly when he would slip and fall, but recognizing the exact moment it did and he unraveled, hips trembling and breaths uneven.

 

 

It started one day during practice. Tooru had woken up that day with a hard on that wouldn’t go away, even after jacking off in his bed, in the shower, and before he got dressed. Though he’d calmed down some by breakfast, he knew he probably needed more than what he could do for himself. Sometimes he really hated being single. And that he was picky.

Tooru’s body had hummed with a restless energy that still didn’t subside even as he sent volleyball after volleyball hurtling over the net and slamming into the floor.

He took a water break, and as he brought the bottle to his lips his eyes caught on Ushijima, sweaty, self-possessed Ushijima, as he spiked the ball hard enough that everyone else had stopped to watch.

Ushijima’s gym shorts had ridden up from the jump and Tooru’s eyes slid over this thighs and landed on his crotch, and Tooru realized that he _was not wearing compression shorts_. He looked up, then, feeling the burn in his cheeks and a tightening in his gut, to find Ushijima looking back at him. His eyes flashed, dark and predatory.

Tooru turned away with a huff. Ushijima just _had_ to be perfect in every respect, from the toned muscles of his back, arms, and legs (from what Tooru had tried not to notice), to his dick (which he couldn’t _not_ notice). He took another swig of water and swallowed hard, willing his arousal back to its designated corner. Luckily _he_ was wearing spandex, so he didn’t have to try to hide the semi he was sporting.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about what it would be like to let Ushijima fuck him, what it would feel like to be naked and writhing under that carnal stare, but he was still equal parts desperate and disgusted, mostly with himself.

Tooru had been too busy trying to tame the traitor in his pants to notice that it had grown late and he and Ushijima were the only ones left. While Ushijima kept practicing (reminding Tooru at little of himself), Tooru stepped off the court to cool down to the tune of volleyballs being spiked into hardwood.

Tooru was in Ushijima’s direct line of sight, and he wanted to see if he could put that hungry look back into his eyes, the one that had made Ushijima seem less like he was cut from stone and had roused Tooru’s blood before he’d turned his back on him.

He had shifted to an almost-split, his inner thigh muscles protesting at the strain. (He’s got a lot of good stretch positions from doing dance as well as volleyball, and this happens to be his favorite one because he knows it makes his ass look _divine_.) He leaned forward, reaching to press his palms against the floor, hips rolling forward slightly as he bent his body in half in one fluid motion.

Tooru moaned with the slightly taxing position, the burn in his legs a little too good to stay quiet. The sound echoed in the empty gym, and Tooru couldn’t contain the smile the sprung to his lips when he heard a volleyball bounce a few times, and then silence.

He looked up with half-lidded eyes, still in the stretch, and Ushijima was watching him with an unfettered look of heat that made Tooru lick his lips in anticipation. He rolled his hips again to widen the split, his body flush against the cool floor. He didn’t tear his gaze away from Ushijima as he maneuvered to rest his chin in his hands, knowing the man was impressed with the sudden display of flexibility. Ushijima's jaw had gone slack, and Tooru didn't miss the pink that tinged his cheeks -- even with half the court and the net between them -- that couldn't quite be explained away by physical exertion.

The friction from the stretch nearly made Tooru moan again but he held himself in check, presuming that subtlety would get him farther than coming on strong. Tooru discovered that he wanted to chip away at Ushijima’s control, to break him and make him weak, just as Ushijima was doing to him.

Tooru had blinked slowly and got up from the stretch, pulling one leg in and then the other. He grabbed his water and towel, and went to the locker room without another look in Ushijima's direction. Tooru was testing him. He knew Ushijima couldn’t read body language, but he was banking on how off-kilter he looked.

 

  
  
And that's how Tooru had found himself pinned against the lockers, finally getting a taste of that wound-up power that simultaneously intimidated and awed him. One of Ushijima's hands held Tooru's hip in a vise as he rubbed his cock against the cleft of his ass, and the other was in his hair, pressing his cheek to cold metal.  
  
Both were still fully dressed, shorts and underwear pushed aside just enough to allow the skin-to-skin contact that Tooru -- and Ushijima, apparently -- had been craving. Tooru's palms were flat against the lockers and he had his T-shirt rucked up above his stomach, the hem caught between his teeth, with the lust-driven hope that Ushijima would touch him, would skate his palms across his skin and sate his need for friction. His hands were surprisingly soft, and the normal current of tension that crackled between them amplified to sparks everywhere they brushed against his skin.  
  
In their urgency, neither were particularly concerned about protection, but when Ushijima went to bring his fingers to his mouth, Tooru turned and pierced him with a glare. "You're not putting your dry dick in my ass."  
  
Ushijima looked...lost.  
  
Tooru was willing to bet Ushijima didn't sleep around -- an intuition he later confirmed -- so presumably whatever he knew about sex was limited to what he saw online. He stepped away to dig around in his bag for the travel-sized bottle of lube he was never without, tossing it to Ushijima, who still caught it despite his surprise. "I, ah, okay."  
  
Re-positioning himself, Tooru let Ushijima open him up, and it was slow and clumsy as all hell but he hit all the right places, and with the same deliberateness that defined all of his actions. Ushijima gauged how much pressure to apply and where based on Tooru's half-stifled moans, and it didn't take long before Tooru was snapping at him to _get inside me already_.  
  
They were quiet, no room for words between them, but there was enough space for sharp gasps and moans that Tooru attempted to quiet by biting the meat of his thumb.  
  
Ushijima's stuttered breath was hot against his neck, and Tooru was aware that his control was slipping even further. Feeling Ushijima's hips snap against him, his rhythm unsteady, Tooru felt high with the knowledge that he was the reason Ushijima was this close to the edge.  
  
The hand that was forcing Tooru's back into an arch was perfect; he wanted to ache for days after, to wear that pain like a trophy. It felt good, not only the sex itself but also bringing Ushijima to his figurative knees. Each labored breath in Tooru's ear felt like a success. For the first time Tooru came untouched, his breathy “Fuck, fuck, fuck,  _yes_ ,” mixing with the sound of Ushijima's hoarse groan as he pulled out and spilled his release all over the curve of Tooru's ass.

It was quick, and equally impersonal. Now satisfied, Tooru wiped himself off with his damp t-shirt, dragging his underwear off before pulling on sweats and brushing past a silent Ushijima to exit the locker room.

 

 

All it took was a phone call and a hoarse, “Come to my place, _now_." The hand he hadn't used to toss the phone on his bedside table was wrapped around the base of his dick.

Tooru had been edging himself, fingers dragging at his balls as he stroked over himself languidly, testing his own patience, before finally deciding that he wanted to come while a cock split him open. A specific cock, actually, belonging to Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Who, 15 minutes after Tooru hangs up, is knocking on Tooru’s front door.

  

 

The twist and curl of Ushijima’s fingers in Tooru’s ass is just unsatisfying enough to be annoying.

“I thought you came here to fuck me, not play with my ass.” Tooru pushes back on the fingers, but they disappear, and he bites back a whimper at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

“ _Ushiwaka_ ,” he bites, just as Ushijima pushes his fingers back inside Tooru’s hole, three fingers this time and _deep_ , stroking his walls, his knuckles catching at his rim with every slow thrust. “...h-hate you, Ushiwaka.”

“It would seem so,” comes the rumbled reply.

“Just get on with it so you can leave,” Tooru manages through gritted teeth. He’s on his stomach, oozing from the circles Ushijima massages into his prostate, his thighs quivering with impatience. Truth be told Tooru didn’t need the stretching -- he'd fingered himself plenty before he even called Ushijima.

This was just Ushijima being “careful” (re: sadistic).

By the time Ushijima drags Tooru’s hips up and back, pressing his back into a familiar arch, and nudges Tooru’s rim with the head of his cock, there’s no resistance as he glides in until his pelvis is flush against Tooru’s ass.

Tooru moans and wiggles his hips, content now that he’s being filled, his rim stretching over the base of Ushijima’s cock. Nothing compares to the way Ushijima pulses inside of him as he lets him adjust, but that’s _not_ the reason Tooru hasn’t let anyone else fuck him since their locker room tryst. The real reason is something like quality over quantity. And that was quality of dick, not personality.

What he had told Ushijima was, “You were a decent lay, and I settle for nothing less than the best in the bedroom, you know. So you should take this...arrangement we have as a compliment."

Ushijima had only nodded.

Now, though, he’s with a different Ushijima. One who takes his hands when he tries to spread his cheeks, crossing and pinning them to his back as he rocks into him with a throaty laugh. One who snakes his hand underneath Tooru to urge him back by pressing into his pelvis rhythmically. One who, without warning, pulls out and thrusts up between Tooru's cheeks before sinking back inside him, and does it again. And again. And again.    
  
Driven to a frenzy, Tooru clenches around his cock, craving the friction, the feel of Ushijima's flesh against his walls. Ushijima finds that he can't pull out so easily, and his strokes slow down with the added tightness, his breath escaping his lips in short bursts as he readjusts his hold on Tooru.  
  
Ushijima pulls him up off the bed, maintaining the curve of his back with a hand on his waist, and presses Tooru's upper back to his chest, his teeth scraping along the bend of Tooru's neck. It's awfully intimate, what with Ushijima's breath puffing in Tooru's ear, and Tooru draws away from him.  
  
"Let-- me-- _go_ ," Tooru says between Ushijima’s erratic thrusts.  
  
Ushijima releases his arms but keeps pounding into him, and Tooru falls back to the bed, shakily holding himself up and pushing back to meet the roll of Ushijima's hips, wanting to feel his cock brush against the deepest parts of him.  
  
Tooru may claim to hate Ushijima, but he sure does love his cock. And he says so.  
  
"Your cock feels so good," he purrs. "I can feel you throbbing inside me, Ushiwaka~"  
  
Ushijima grunts in response, so he tries again, obscenities and filthiness spilling from his tongue with practiced ease.    
  
A particularly harsh thrust makes Tooru choke on his words, and he falls face first into the mattress at the force of it.

Ushijima’s strokes are so shallow that Tooru can't even feel the drag of the cock inside him, only the insistent press of Ushijima's girth and length, his balls brushing against Tooru’s inner thighs.

“Yes," Tooru moans. " _Just like that_."

Tooru reaches back to play with his rim, feeling it stretch where Ushijima slides in and out of him, and he comes, hips jerking weakly as he fucks into nothing, one hand spreading himself and the other massaging the edges of his twitching hole.     

Before he can finish coming, Ushijima flips him over with a growl, without pulling out ( _Oh, fuck, that's hot_ , Tooru thinks), hooking Tooru's knees over his elbows and grinding his hips down into him. Tooru lets his head fall to the side to avoid Ushijima's eyes, but before he does so he sees his feral expression, breath rasping through bared teeth. 

It's that broken look, not unlike the one he gets when they're to play a new, strong opponent. Tooru laughs, relishing the chaos in Ushijima's eyes, the reckless abandon with which he drives into him, so so different from his default state of restraint. 

Ushijima fucks him through another orgasm, grazing that spot almost harshly with each stroke, and Tooru feels like he could come for hours. He feels so wet, his thighs slick with lube and precum and sweat, and then Ushijima bucks his hips before he pulls out with a sharp gasp, hands still clamped around Tooru's waist as he shudders through his orgasm. 

Almost reluctantly, Ushijima rolls away from him, the bed dipping a little with his weight. He came on Tooru's belly this time, and Tooru lies where he is for a moment, thinking to spare the sheets. They're already dirty with sweat and his own come, but he isn't in the mood to put them in the wash. Wordlessly, he gets up and goes to the bathroom to clean up, and is glad that Ushijima is fully dressed by the time he returns.

He is not glad, though, when he decides to speak.

“Will you be okay for practice tomorrow?”

Tooru waves him off, pulling on a pair of pants he'd tossed on the floor. "Don't worry about me."

"Are you sure?"

Unbelievable. Tooru pauses in the middle of tying his pants, fixing Ushijima with a haughty look, one hand propped on his waist. He tilts his head as if to say, _Really_?

"I do not understand. You are talkative during sex, but not after."

“What I say during sex doesn’t matter. It’s all said in the heat of the moment," Tooru says, exasperated. “I thought we agreed this was just fucking. I don’t recall negotiating any unnecessary chit-chat.”

Ushijima takes a second to process his words, palming his hair flat. He sighs. 

"I see. Good night, Oikawa."

After Ushijima gingerly brushes past and lets himself out, Tooru collapses onto the bed and falls into a deep sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ohmykokuroo.tumblr.com) || [other tumblr](http://zeppellii.tumblr.com) || [twitter](https://twitter.com/lovedeluxxxe)


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